


Family Fun Time

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [13]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Alternate Timeline, Drink Spiking, Drug Use, Family Drama, Insecurity, Jealousy, Not that funny, Possessive Behavior, Sibling Bonding, angsty in places, discussion of consent issues again because the show's misfits and the writer is me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 04:29:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18731629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: Starts right afterPopped.Pretty much the rest of what happens during episode 2 of season 2 in my AU. So, a lot of brotherly bonding, a bit of Simon, and Mike even shows up here and there.





	Family Fun Time

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: for the consent issues stuff, but also for mention of drink spiking. 
> 
> This, and Popped, are some of those fics mostly written that I mentioned when my dog got really sick and I wasn't sure what was going to happen- to be honest I still don't know. She had a not-so-good day yesterday, but a better day today- anyway, it's frustrating and worrying when you don't know what's wrong with something you love. Sorry to be depressing. I'm not looking for sympathy btw, I'm just in a weird mood.
> 
> Anyway, I've really appreciated the positive reception this series has been getting. Thank you all so much for reading, for the comments and kudos!

He snuggles in to his boyfriend’s side while they wait for Jamie to get out of surgery— and all he can think is that it has been a long fucking couple of days— and it started out so well. Nice weather, freshly de-virginized, sexy pain up in his arse, got to do a bit of a strip tease, acquired the delightful knowledge that his boyfriend is possessive of him, found out he has a brother—

It had started going wrong when he found out Jamie had their dad in the boot of his car. Of course before that there was the awkward conversation about Simon, Jamie being all, ‘So, that bloke you were with on the roof—’

And him almost panicking and declaring himself to be _one-hundred percent, completely and totally straight, come on, do you want me to eat some pussy for you to prove it, right here, right now, I will, just get me a girl_ — but the pain up his arse had stopped him. The pain and all the memories of just how fucking _good_ to him Simon is. So instead he’d shrugged a bit awkwardly and muttered, ‘He’s my boyfriend,’ against the rim of his glass in the hope Jamie wouldn’t hear him.

‘So you’re—?’ his brother had trailed off, gesturing randomly and incomprehensibly in the air between them. He’d frowned, trying to work out what the flailing meant. Gay? Taking it up the arse on the regular? Someone with excellent taste in men? An alien? ‘ _Gay?!_ ’ Jamie had finally whisper-hissed. Ah, so his first guess was right. 

He’d shrugged, but then, since his brand new brother had been looking at him with these big, eager eyes, he’d found himself saying. ‘Well, technically _bisexual,_ but that hardly matters.’ He’s hardly going to go chasing pussy when he’s got a cock like that waiting for him at home.

‘So you do like girls?’ Jamie had asked.

‘Well, yeah, of course, but I like Barry more—’ a thought occurred to him, ‘ _Simon,_ you call him Simon. Only _I’m_ allowed to call him Barry,’ and then, at Jamie’s obvious confusion, ‘It’s like a pet name or something. His actual name is _Simon._ ’

‘Simon,’ Jamie had repeated, and then gone quiet, sipping the last of his beer. It had occurred to him that he didn’t know how Jamie was going to react, whether the other man was even going to want to try being his brother after this, and he’d just been thinking that he’d only really been living as a queer for the tiniest bit of time and already he was getting rejected by family members when Jamie had nodded, ‘Alright then. Does dad know?’

‘About Barry?’ he’d asked, and then snorted out a panicked laugh at Jamie’s nod. ‘Fuck no, like that prick needs to know anything about me.’

He’d actually been feeling pretty good about it all. New brother, new brother who wasn’t being a _dick_ about his sexuality, boyfriend waiting for him back at the Community Centre, confirmation that his father is a total prick— and then they’d discovered Jamie’s car gone and the other man had told him that said prickish father was stuffed in the boot. 

It had all been a bit upsetting, especially those brief moment when he thought the car had been torched and their dad was dead. He might be absolutely _furious_ with the man, but that doesn’t mean he wants him pot roasted in the boot of a crappy car by some psychos off the estate. False alarm that, which was a good thing. 

Less good was the bit where he basically offered up any and all of his orifices and said some stupid shit about his balls and a cactus in order to distract the particular band of psychos off the estate that actually _had_ taken the car. There was a moment there when he’d actually thought they were going to take him up on it— the idea of being gang raped and then beaten to death flashing repeatedly across his mind with reminders of what he stupid twat he can be, and exactly how Simon was likely to take it. But it turned out they just wanted to rob him— then maybe beat him to death. So, all things considered, a relief. He probably won’t mention what happened to Simon though— he gets the impression his boyfriend will be— _less than impressed._ Probably angry with him. But nothing serious happened, yeah, so it’s all alright. Isn’t it? He can explain away the bruises he can feel coming up. 

He probably shouldn’t even make jokes about other people fucking him in the future— not because he’s scared of how Simon will react, though he doesn’t like the idea of upsetting the other man, but what if the person he’s joking at takes him seriously? He doesn’t actually want to fuck or suck or wank anyone other than his boyfriend, and he sure as shit doesn’t want to end up in a situation where he doesn’t have much of a choice. In the past that stuff hasn’t mattered so much, but now—

Thank fuck he’d managed to keep his cherry though, so he could give it to Simon. For some weird and funny and no doubt stupid reason it feels important to him. He’s gone completely stupid over the man, hasn’t he? He’s never really felt like this before, about anyone. 

He gets into it with their dad while Jamie’s in with the cops. He can’t help himself. Even just seeing the man pisses him off, makes it hard to control himself. Even remembering it is pissing him off now. ‘Are you alright?’ Simon asks, leaning in close. 

‘Just fucking peachy Barry,’ he sighs, then rubs his face against the other man’s shoulder. ‘Some night, huh?’

Some night. 

It’s not even like it was a good morning. Don’t get him wrong, it was an ok morning— he’d asked Simon for a bit of time for just him and Jamie, which’d felt weird, but what can you do? So his boyfriend had gone back home for the first night in— well, since before he died. And then it’d just been him and his brother, except Jamie’d fallen asleep almost immediately— while he’d been out sourcing burgers and beers— and then— He can remember looking down at the other man’s sleeping form and having feelings. Not Simon kind of feelings, but other ones. A kind of odd and scary fondness and something a bit protective. 

He’d actually ended up sleeping on one of the Community Centre’s couches. Which he thinks might actually have been more comfortable than sleeping on that shitty mattress. What can you do though?

At least Simon had been there to greet him first thing, and he’d happily backed his boyfriend up against the wall and tried to tongue-fuck his tonsils, feeling Simon’s hands go to his waist, his arse, squeezing and kneading at him— until the prick Probation worker had walked past, sighing ‘For fuck’s sake,’ and Simon had gotten too embarrassed.

Also, apparently some weirdo has been following Alicia around. Jumping around the place and climbing over buildings like a freak while wearing some stupid costume. He thinks it’s pretty funny, like the guy seems like he’s trying too hard— probably less funny if the guy turns out to be a rapist— but it’s making Simon fret a bit, worrying this guy might have powers. 

God, the stuff with his dad though— it’s like he can’t escape the guy. He’d caught himself thinking on and off that just because things got so _fucked_ between him and the man, doesn’t mean it has to go the same for Jamie. There were extenuating circumstances there, even if he hates thinking about them. So he brought it up while making his brother a grilled cheese sandwich before they went out to meet the others, part of him already jittery about how little time he’d spent with Simon these last couple of days. 

Even now there’s this little voice that can just _fuck off_ suggesting that if he lets Simon out of his sight for too long the other man might get cold feet, or worse, might meet someone else. Maybe he should put a collar on him, you know, with a tag that says, “Property of Nathan Young, you touch and he’ll rip your fucking eyes out of your skull.”

His sudden and obnoxious insecurities aside, he did try to talk Jamie around to trying to patch it up with their dad, or at least he started out that way, before he ended up talking about the Ikea Paedophile. Then, of course, he saw the prick— not the paedophile, but their dad. Watching them. Or watching _Jamie_ at least. Made him feel funny things.

It was such a relief to see Simon at the rave. The moment he’d spotted that pale and starey face it was like this weight he hadn’t been aware of had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d draped himself all over the other man while he waited for Jamie to get back with the beers, stealing a kiss the moment his boyfriend had turned his face to greet him. There may have been some tongue involved. Maybe a lot of tongue involved. Maybe also a cheeky little grope of Simon’s trouser front— ignoring all the whining this had provoked in the others. They’re just jealous. Kelly’s not getting any and all Curtis and Alicia are probably getting is friction burn from wanking themselves off so much.

‘I’ve missed you Barry,’ he’d said, ‘And your beautiful cock.’

‘For fuck’s sake Nathan!’ Kelly had moaned, slapping at him. 

He probably shouldn’t have taken that pill. He _definitely_ should have said something when he saw Jamie spike Simon’s drink— but he’d been thinking that it would be fun, maybe it would make his boyfriend relax, and that way they could dance, have a good time— and he’d keep an eye on things, not let Simon out of his sight, not let anything bad happen to him. 

It had been terrible though, all those people looking at Simon and thinking he was wonderful, just like he thinks Simon is wonderful, except he’d been one of those people— not even minding when all those other wankers had started massing round and copying his boyfriend’s amusingly awkward dance moves— he’d even thought it was good, exactly what Simon had deserved, being adored like that by everyone. Makes him shudder, just thinking about it. If he’d been in his right mind he would have chased them all off. Simon is _his._

He’d been forced to admit that Jamie’d spiked Simon’s drink when his boyfriend had come over a bit weird and then dragged him off to the loos. ‘What?’ Simon had asked, blinking blearily at him, ‘Why would you let him do that?’ the tone was clearly one of suspicion. 

‘I wanted you to be able to relax,’ he’d replied, nuzzling in close. It had felt like being permitted to touch God, or something. A fucking weird feeling. ‘Fuck, you’re perfect. Do you wanna fuck me? I cleaned myself out earlier just in case.’ That had been embarrassing, worrying Jamie would wander into the bathroom at any time.

‘We don’t have any lube!’ Simon had bleated, grabbing at him when he’d started undoing his jeans. He’d been thinking maybe up against the stall door at the time.

‘That’s ok, we can do it dry,’ he’d said, even though part of him had been pointing out how sore he still was from the first time, and with a cock like Simon’s in the mix they might need more than one successful attempt before his body was anywhere used to it enough to even _try_ it dry.

‘We’re not doing it dry!’ Simon had snapped. ‘I hate it when you get like this.’

He’d started freaking out then, panic surging, a bunch of rubbish spilling out of his mouth that can basically be summed up as “I don’t want you to hate me!”

It had taken quite a bit of soft petting and gentle kissing before the idea that Simon didn’t actually hate _him_ managed to get through. Simon just hates— actually, he’s still not entirely sure what it is Simon hates. He thinks it’s something about him getting off his face and offering to let Simon do him dry? Maybe it’s how slutty he gets? He doesn’t know.

What he does know is that after that Simon let him get to his knees to suck him off, but part way through he started to feel really weird himself and then had to stop, leaning his head against Simon’s thigh until his head stopped spinning and fighting this weird feeling, like there was a weight on his chest, his whole body aching, every breath kind of sticking in his lungs. Simon had freaked out— fretting at him, but then there’d been a fucking explosion and people had started screaming and they’d both panicked, worrying about the others, his mind full of Jamie. 

They’d found Jamie all right, lying on the ground near a flaming car, a mostly naked girl half on him— the two of them with burns, the two of them bleeding everywhere from shrapnel wounds. He’d started screaming for an ambulance, dropping to his brother’s side, hands going out to staunch the blood welling from the worst of his wounds. In the end he’d had to strip of his t-shirt, wadding it up over the wound in his brother’s abdomen. Simon had called the ambulance the moment they’d seen what was happening, and then he’d helped with Jamie and helped with the girl, and stayed calm through it all, even when _he’d_ been feeling like he was falling apart.

Jamie had been conscious for a bit, just at first, just long enough to tell him that he’d been dancing with Kelly, but then she’d gotten weird and intense and kept telling him there was something wrong with her power, so he’d gone outside for a smoke and a bit of air and seen the girl in the car with this bloke, only it didn’t seem like she wanted to be in the car, but the bloke wouldn’t let her leave, and he’d been going over there to do something about it when the car’d caught fire. ‘Is she alright, the girl?’ Jamie’d asked before he’d lost consciousness. All he’d been able to say is that she was still alive. She’s in surgery too, pale faced mother also waiting to hear something. 

‘Do you want to go get cleaned up?’ Simon asks, bringing him back to the here and now. 

He glances at his boyfriend, then looks down at himself. He’s shirtless beneath the jacket, blood on his jeans, blood smeared on his torso, dried and sticky with his sweat now, blood under his nails, in the creases of his hands. ‘I want to wait in case there’s news,’ is what he says.

‘Of course,’ Simon says, squeezing the arm around his waist tighter, then pressing a kiss to the side of his head— which is how his prick of a dad finds them.

He hears the footsteps stop before he realises what it means. ‘Nathan?’ he hears, and when he looks up there he is, his dad, looking at him, looking at Simon, gaze assessing. The breath catches in his throat. He feels the blush rise to his cheeks, a moment, just a moment, of panicked confusion making him want to push his boyfriend away—but instead he pulls Simon closer, glares at his father in defiance. He sees it, the moment his father decides that kicking up a fuss about this is going to be counterproductive, the moment his father decides to just accept it, the man sinking heavily into the seat beside him. ‘What happened?’ the man asks.

He tells him what he knows, Simon filling in any details he missed, and then his dad starts blathering on about thinking he had to choose between the two of them and choosing him, and it’s all very embarrassing and maybe a bit upsetting, and he’s fucking glad Simon is there for him to cling to while it’s happening and after, while they wait, they wait, they wait, until eventually someone comes out and tells them that Jamie is out of surgery, that— while he’s not out of the woods just yet— things went well. There’s some conversation about scarring and skin grafts and rehabilitation but it pretty much flies over his head, the relief hot and thick and choking in his chest. _Thank fuck._

Before they finally leave the hospital to go and try and get some rest, his dad staying in case anything changes and promising to ring him if it does, he looks at the man for a long moment, all those confused and angry feelings welling up, before he sighs. ‘You can buy me breakfast one day, if you’d like.’

The next day Simon talks to the others and finally works out what happened with their powers. Which means _he _is now permanently forbidden from ever taking E again, ‘You could have died Nathan, you could have _died!_ ’ He accepts the ban as long as Simon agrees never to take it again either. Simon doesn’t ask why, which is good, because he doesn’t have to say something about worrying that if other people can see how wonderful his boyfriend is is Simon might just choose one of them over him. __

__Because that would be just too fucking embarrassing to admit._ _


End file.
